


Summer Pornathon Challenge #6

by kattale



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossover/Fusion, F/F, M/M, Summer Pornathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:36:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattale/pseuds/kattale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2012 Summer Pornathon for Challenge #6, "Crossovers/Fusion".</p><p>Merlin crossover with Terry Pratchett's Discworld.</p><p>While investigating a rash of sheep thefts, Merlin, Arthur, and the knights stumble upon the Wee Free Men and their Hag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Pornathon Challenge #6

Pornathon Entry #6, Prompt = Crossover/Fusion

Crossover: Terry Pratchett's Discworld

 

The ewe let go a loud, flatulent ‘parp’. Merlin gagged.

“Remind me again why we’re lying in this sodden field in the dead of night, staring up the arse end of a sheep?”

A dark hummock nearby sighed. “Quit whining Merlin. The plan is to catch the livestock thieves plaguing this district.”

“But why us? You’re King. You have bailiffs and barons for this work. You don’t personally investigate every petty crime in Camelot.”

“The village headman claimed the animals were flying out of the fields. It’s clearly sorcery!”

“Sounds like someone’s been into the scumble,” muttered another shadowy hump.

“Shut up, Gwaine.”

“I didn’t say a word!” the hummock protested.

The night air muttered.

“Merlin, I can hear you!”

“Can not!”

“What the hell does ‘crivens’ mean anyway?”

Merlin’s protest was cut off by a loud cry.

“Ready lads? Yin, tan, tethra! Hup hup hyup!”

A sheep at the edge of the flock rose eight inches and glided at speed for the paddock gate. Backwards.

“Knights, to arms!”

Sheep scattered as cloaked figures sprang into their midst. Swords flashed, but no enemy could be seen. The levitating sheep settled as fast as it had risen.

“Who goes there!?”

A voice drifted up from the grass at Arthur’s feet “Ye’hear, lads? Ta bigjobs want tae see oos!”

Before Arthur rose a strange form - a very large pyramid made up of very small blue men. The wee figure at the apex shouted, “Ach, ye skivvens, sommun hol’ me cote, wiles I tak tae ‘is feece! Can yer mother sew, ye daftie? Tell her tae stitch this!” It launched itself at the King’s face with a howl, hitting Arthur’s nose with a resounding crack and sending him over like a felled tree.

The field erupted in chaos.

“Get it off! Get it off!”

“Let go my hair! Ow!”

“It’s in my pants! Get it out.. argghhh!”

Merlin darted behind a fence and began to chant, his eyes flashing gold. He nearly choked on the incantation when the shrub behind him whispered in his ear.

“T’will get you nowhere. The lads be immune to magic.”

Like that picture of the old woman who becomes a young maid if you stare at it long enough, the bush shifted and became a lovely young woman in a tall, pointed hat. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful. Brown hair hung long in a simple braid and she wore a plain green dress above a pair of sturdy, sensible boots. She had a presence about her, as if she bent the universe around her like a lead ball on a rubber sheet.

With scarcely a glance at Merlin she stepped forward and took in the battle. “I suppose I’d best put a stop to’it. THAT’LL BE ENOUGH O’ THAT YE SCUNNERS!”

~~~

At the tavern, Arthur nursed his bloodied nose and peered at the tiny man perched on the table before him. He was blue-skinned with wild red-hair and wore nothing but a ragged kilt and rabbit-skull helmet.

“So... you’re Nac Mac Feegle, and you’re pixies?”

“Pictsies!”

“Right. You’re Rob Anybody, their chief?”

“Big mun o’ t’clan, aye.”

“And the sheep?”

“Wi’d snaffle t’a coobeastie, liken ta ships, aye?”

Merlin and the strange girl exchanged an amused glance, leaving the king and the small chieftain deep in conversation. They paused to watch Gwaine losing a drinking competition with several scruffy Feegles. Leon was out cold, and Elyan was surreptitiously trying to make for the stairs, one hand gripping his trousers and a Feegle on each shoulder. Percival was arm wrestling a generously proportioned Feegle named Big Yan, who was promising to “climb him like a mountain”, while No'-As-Big-As-Medium-Sized-Jock-But-Bigger-than-Wee-Jock Jock played bawdy tavern songs on the mouse-pipes in the corner.

The girl sighed. “A good fight followed by a good drink and they’re happy.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“They’ll not bother your kingdom any more. I’ll see to't.”

Merlin cut her off with an abrupt cough and look of warning. “I know what you are, but don’t announce it,” he hissed. “Magic users are not... appreciated here.”

The girl cocked her head, her eyes flicking from the King back to Merlin.

“He doesn’t know, then?”

Merlin’s pained expression was answer enough.

Tiffany took his hand. “Your time will come.”

Glancing back, she appeared to address an overhanging tree branch. “This is private. Follow us and face the wrath o’ yer hag, ye ken?”

“Crivens!” said a tiny voice from aloft.

Tiffany tugged Merlin’s hand. “Come on, then. Tonight, at least, you’re not alone.”


End file.
